“In other words, he’s going to try to ditch me.”
“Yeah. He wouldn’t let me send anyone with him. He wouldn’t even let me tag along.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll stick.” The two years she’d spent working personal security for some of Hollywood’s youngest and brattiest stars had honed her skills in the sticking department.
The moment she hung up the phone, she raced into her bedroom and threw open her closet door. She didn’t have a lot of clothes, but during her time in L.A., she’d acquired some special pieces. She pushed aside hangars and decided on the little black cocktail dress that had visited some of Hollywood’s hottest nightspots.
Whirling, she was about to toss it onto her bed, but Flash lay sprawled across the middle. The cat could move like lightning when she really wanted to.
“I have to leave for a while.” She tried to keep the excitement out of her voice. “Business. Fancy place.”
Pleasures was very upscale. Though she’d never been there, she’d frequently walked by. And each time she’d passed the front doors during the past three weeks, she’d resisted the temptation to go in. If she had, the chances were good that she’d run into him. The plan was to get over Jonah Stone.
So far the plan hadn’t worked. And seeing him again…
Jonah was a client, she reminded herself. And she had very strict rules about clients.
She turned her attention to Flash. “Dress needs something, don’t you think?” The red peep-toed shoes had cost her half a paycheck, but when she held them up for Flash’s inspection, the cat made a sound deep in her throat.
“I agree. These things will dress up anything.”
It took her three minutes to change and another ten before she was satisfied with her hair and makeup.
She paused to survey herself in the mirror. She definitely didn’t look like a bodyguard. That ought to make it easier for a man like Jonah Stone to accept her as one. At least for the evening.
Then she narrowed her eyes on the image in the mirror and swept her gaze down and up. “Who are you kidding? You’re wearing this just as much for him as you are for the job.”
Moving closer, she tapped a finger on the mirror. “The man has three strikes against him. Not only is he like your father, he’s also your boss’s best friend and now he’s a client. One night with Jonah Stone is understandable. Enviable. Any more could be disastrous. You are going to handle this.”
Turning back to her closet, she grabbed her red leather coat and transferred her gun from her dresser drawer to her pocket. She was almost at the door of her apartment before she felt the eyes boring into her back.
Flash.
“Sorry.” Whipping around, she saw that the cat had returned to her station on the sofa. Right next to the empty plate.
“I’ve got to go, pal.” Crossing to the sofa, she crouched down and looked into Flash’s eyes. “It shouldn’t take long. But it’s my chance to impress my new boss.” She lifted a hand and then dropped it, remind ing herself that Flash didn’t like to be touched. “No more food. Remember our little talk about lifestyle choices.”
It was one that they’d had several times since she’d taken her new roommate to the vet. Dr. Robillard had prescribed a “modification” in Flash’s diet. The pediatrician her mother had taken Cilla to when she was thirteen had used nearly the same words.
“Moderation is the key. It made all the difference for me when I was in my teens. You’ll get used to it.”
Flash’s expression said, “You’ve got to be kidding.”
“Tell you what. I’ll leave the Hallmark Channel on. They’re having a marathon of Christmas movies. It’ll take your mind off food.” She snagged the remote, hit the channel. “Look. A Boyfriend for Christmas. That sounds like a great one. Santa, presents and romance thrown in.”
And now she didn’t have to watch it herself. Cilla silently sent up a prayer of thanksgiving to Gabe as she rose and raced for the door. “Meeow.”
Flash’s mournful reproach followed Cilla as she headed for the stairs.
3
JONAH STONE HADN’T BEEN HAVING the best of days when he stepped into the airport parking garage. A chilly blast of wind followed him. His flight to San Francisco had been delayed three hours because of a blizzard in Denver, and he’d spent most of his wait time at the airport thinking about another blizzard and another night.
He’d been counting on the time in Denver to give him some respite from thoughts of Cilla. He’d been looking forward to catching up with his best friend, Gabe Wilder. Their other pal Nash hadn’t been able to make their annual party because his grandmother had arranged for a private Christmas cruise that would allow Nash and his wife, Bianca, to get to know some recently discovered members of their family.
Though their career paths had drawn them apart since the years they’d spent at Denver’s St. Francis Center for Boys, they tried to get together whenever they could, and Christmas usually provided the perfect time. He’d been looking forward to a poker game tonight at Gabe’s apartment and shooting some hoops tomorrow.
The note that had been hand delivered that morning had changed his plans. Like the first, it had come in a small green box tied with a red ribbon. The message had been playing in his head in a continuous loop, and each time it repeated, the feeling in his gut grew stronger.
The word pleasures had appeared in both notes, so now he was headed back to the club. Pulling his parking stub out of his pocket, he checked the aisle, turned left, and increased his pace.
He nearly stopped dead in his tracks when he saw her. Though he managed not to break stride, he now knew what it must be like to take two barrels of a shotgun right in the belly. She was leaning against the back fender of his car, her mile-long legs crossed in front of her.
Cilla Michaels.
As often as he’d considered calling her, as frequently as he’d imagined her in his mind, nothing had prepared him for the impact that seeing her again would have on him.
It was all he could do to keep his pace from quickening. That night in the hotel lounge, her dark hair had been pulled back into a long neat braid. Tonight, it spilled in dark curls over her shoulders. The open red leather trench coat revealed a very short black dress. The shoes were red with open toes and dangerously high heels. And the legs…well, they were incredible.
But as he reached her, it was the eyes that drew his gaze again, just as they had before. They were a pure and piercing green with a shimmer of gold around the pupils. Fascinating. And looking into them for too long had the same effect he’d experienced the first time. He forgot to breathe.
When he drew air in, he felt the burn in his lungs. No other woman had ever affected his senses, his mind, his breathing, his gut in quite this way.
Nearly a month had passed and he hadn’t stopped wanting her. Now, seeing her again, he wanted her even more. He wanted his hands on her. He needed hers on him.
All the more reason to remember that she was dangerous for him. All the more reason to send her away. He had bigger problems on his plate right now. The two notes he’d received needed all of his attention.
“Cilla Michaels,” he said. “Gabe sent you.”
She nodded. “He contacted me as soon as your plane left Denver. He thinks you need protection, and he warned me you might not like it.”
“It’s not a matter of liking. Do I look like someone who needs protection?”
“Not in the least.” Cilla had